Vanteerian Charm
by Tinkering
Summary: As usual the remarkable only happens to Harry Potter. But what happens when this time the remarkable happenings get muggle people involved and the greatest discovery of a lifetime is about to be revealed? And we don't mean magic...Hp/Smallville Clex
1. Prologue

**Title:** Vanteerian Charm

**Author:** Lady Treason & Tinkering

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter or any affliates, I'm in no way connected to any of them, I do not mean to infringe on any copyrights or titles and I make no money off of this endeavour.

**Warning:** What can I say? It's a Harry Potter/Smallville crossover. SS/HP, as if I'd write anything else...and Clex, #fans self# need I say more?

**Summary: **Mostly HP but then a curious bald headed man and a gangly farm boy wandered into their universe…and were followed. So then the megalomaniac father of said bald headed billionaire started getting even GREATER "disillusions" of grandeur… am I giving away the whole plot here? Dude!

A/N: Lol. I doubt you'll figure out where I'm going from that gabbled mess. If you can I'll give you twenty cyber cookies, five glasses of milk and a stuffed teddy bear…one of the BIG ones! But onto more important things.

Treason and I started this before she left. I'm sorry she isn't here to start it off with me. I guess I'm continuing it on my own now but I'm still including her name in case there's any misunderstandings. If you've read our shared story The Last Vanteera or any responses to her challenge about this new creature you'll know all about its abilities already. You can either do a little background work before coming in or walk in blind (blind is more fun, you get to act all surprised). Even though we have an even bigger legacy of shared stories that no one knows about, they will most likely never be seen. All I can say is I hope you enjoy this one…and enjoy it until you can tell where Treason's ended and I begin alone. #sticks out tongue# Try to enjoy my parts too though!

_**Vanteerian Charm**_

_**By Lady Treason & Tinkering**_

_**Disclaimer: **__All HP characters and places belong to JK Rowling. The Vanteerian Race and stuff belongs solely to me. Ha. _

_**Prologue**_

_Unremarkable. _

_You all know the story of this soon-to-be seventeen year old boy saviour, Harry James Potter, so I will not bother to repeat it. _

_You all know that he survived the killing curse when he was but a babe, attacked by the Darkest Lord of all time (how convenient!). You all know that he was then placed on the unremarkable doorstep to this very same unremarkable house, where he was then left in the oh-so-tender mercies of his oh-so-loving relatives (how kind!)._

_You all know that he was then rescued by a monster-crazed Half-Giant who took him on a wee little trip to London to buy a wand, of all things. You all know, then, that he was told that he was a wizard, and a very famous one at that (How fitting!). You all know that our boy, at such the tender age of eleven, met up once more with the bodiless, hideous, relentless Dark Lord for the second time (Such fun!)._

_You also know that our boy returned for a second year at this oh-so-safe school (where he was, of course, wrapped up in cotton wool and locked up in the highest room of the tallest tower and taught how to sew). You all know then that he fought the biggest, slimiest, nastiest of snakes (and no, I don__'__t mean Voldemort) with the cruellest of eyes in existence. Our unremarkable boy fought with his enemy through fire, and water, from the lowest dungeon to the highest peak, he fought him, the Basilisk of the Chamber._

_(Until at last, he threw down his enemy and smote his ruin upon the stone floor. Darkness took him. Then light… in such a prettiful bird.)_

_But that__'__s nothing!_

_You all know what happened in his third year at that harmless magical place where no sorrow is known. Our prettiful little boy found his somewhat-prettiful godfather, a werewolf, a rat and, to top it all off, managed to blast his most-hated, tall, dark (and incredibly handsome) prince charming right into unconsciousness. (Love at first sight.)_

_You also know that the fourth year brought back that no-longer-bodiless, but-still-hideous and relentless Dark Lord to power. Our Harry helped, of course, being the loving, kind and gentle little boy he was. How could he refuse? (It didn__'__t help that he wasn__'__t even asked in the first place, of course). _

_And then, the fifth year, where our beloved angel lost his beloved godfather after so little time together. Tears and anger reigned then, frustration and shouts, pain and fear, not to mention Voldemort was somewhere in the background too. But, of course, you all know about that. _

_But no, I won__'__t bother to repeat his story._

_That would make it completely unremarkable. _

_What you don__'__t know, perhaps, is that in Harry__'__s sixth year, he made two great allies in Lucius and Draco Malfoy. (Who would have guessed?). Out of allies, came friends and then friends grew into family. Our baby grew up, learned a lot, fought for survival and came out beaming and glowing and just oh-so-happy. _

_But no, I won't tell you about that either, because that was completely unremarkable._

_What I will do, though, is tell you a story of the next year of our boy__'__s life. I will tell you of secrets and of joys, of pain and of strife, of love and deceit. I will tell you a tale so incredible that you will find yourself bored with all those other merciless stories, stories where the people pair our loveable boy here with the most horrid of partners. (Who in their right mind needs Het?). _

_I will tell you a tale that is remarkable. _

_And I will tell you that tale now…_

Harry James Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, the most eligible bachelor and winner of the Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile award, gazed out of the window of a completely unremarkable house, onto a completely unremarkable street. The full moon shone high over the houses, naked to the eye even as the storm clouds drew together overhead. 

Rain pounded against this quiet, unremarkable street and bounced off the concrete of the path. Wind howled against the windows fiercely, battering against the glass along with the rain, so hard that Harry wondered if it would break. He didn't hold his breath though. Still, he gazed out and peered through the darkness, not for anything remarkable mind you, no, our dear boy was quite simply bored. How… unremarkable. 

He was a quiet boy, quite intelligent, really, which was a surprise considering he certainly didn't get it from his father. He was contemplative, hard working, a great listener and very patient… what more could we ask for in the mortal male species? This was certainly a rarity; boys like this were surely very nearly extinct. He could be a handsome boy, as well, if he bothered at all, if he didn't hide behind such thick lenses, if he didn't wear such rags…

… but our friend here was gay, which again is not really a surprise. All the good ones are gay, or taken, or dead. The latter might not have been thought of as a 'good one' when they were alive, but its surprising how memories and feelings change to suit ourselves when the person isn't there to contest the illusion by breathing. 

I do believe I'm getting sidetracked. 

He was also a loving boy, of the sort that wore his heart on his sleeve. I think what did it for most, though, were those unnaturally bright emerald green eyes of his. 

In just five minutes, Harry would be seventeen years old. He would be of age in the Wizarding world, classed as an adult and, even better than that, he would be able to do magic outside of school. What more could he ask for? Aside from Voldemort's defeat… his parents back … his godfather back … a normal life … no more pain … no more fame … no more Dursleys… not a lot, really.

In just over a month, Harry would be returning for his seventh year at Hogwarts (that wonderful safe haven where he would never be harmed). He couldn't wait, there was so much to do this year, a home to find, friends to keep safe, magic to learn, exams to pass and an evil dark wizard to kill… yes, he really, truly, could not wait. 

Sometime before then, he hoped, he would be taken away from his completely unremarkable, private hell here at the Dursleys, and taken somewhere where he was actually wanted, cherished, loved. He didn't particularly care where that somewhere was, but then again, who would? 

He glanced away from the window once and across to the once-broken-but-now-fixed alarm clock that was by his bed. Three minutes. He turned back to the window.

The rain fall has not lessened in the least all day, nor has the bitter cold wind. It was a typical British summer. Who needed winter? Harry reached across after a while and pushed the window open, not bothering to step back as the wind and the rain instantly found the hole and tried to chuck as much of each other inside as they could. Almost as if _they_ needed shelter. 

The owls had arrived. 

He had his wand out and gripped so tightly in his hands that his knuckles turned white, his jaw was clenched shut as he ground his teeth together, seemingly without noticing. His bedroom door was shut tight, as it always was, and he wondered perhaps whether he would get a gift from Voldemort this year … maybe a portkey. It wouldn't surprise him; he was merely astonished that the evil Dark Lord hadn't tried yet.

Even better than that, a cursed piece of parchment that would grow hands and strangle him…

He stepped to the side to let them enter, his emerald green eyes sweeping over the flock intently, mainly to see if there was any there that he didn't recognise. Thankfully, there wasn't, and now he was left to wonder whether he was being a tad bit paranoid. 

After a minute of just staring at them, Harry moved forward to relieve the owls of their packages, watching as most of them flew from the house almost immediately, leaving only Hedwig, Pig and Draco's eagle-owl, Archeon. 

His bed was absolutely covered with letters and parcels but he ignored them for now, turning his gaze back to the window.

'_Why is he staring out there now?__'__ You ask, when it clearly cannot be put down to boredom as it had before. So I will tell you. Our dear boy does not feel so well. For the first time in as long as he can remember … he is ill._

_Our brave little soldier here does not normally get swamped with such common illnesses as the flu, colds, headaches and the likes. All of his time in the hospital wing was down to injuries; all of his headaches were down to Voldemort. So why was he ill now? Why, after all these years, did he feel sick, dizzy, lost, alone and with a bitch of a headache?_

_The main part of the story that I will tell you is the answer to this question, it is not something that can merely be explained in such short and simple terms. If you are disinclined to believe the unbelievable, then I suggest you leave now. For you see, I am to tell you a tale that stretches _beyond_ remarkable._

After a while, Harry shut the window again and crossed the room over to his bed. He knew that he had to sort all of these presents out now, before his Uncle Vernon, woke to find that he actually had friends. Oh no, should his uncle find that out, the punishment for actually being likeable would be too high.

Harry sighed, brushing his hand through his too-long hair as he glanced down at the gifts one last time. If it was up to him, he would throw everything on the floor, curl up in bed and not move for a month. He decided that he didn't like being ill. 

Instead, he reached for the first one he came to, this was wrapped neatly in silver paper and he knew immediately that it was from Draco and Lucius. He picked up the letter that came with it and then broke the seal of the envelope before unrolling the parchment. 

_Harry_

_Happy seventeenth birthday, Harry. I expect that you are rather excited now, though I must ask what plans you have for the muggles. I__'__m thinking a nice few hexes should do the trick, are you going to give me details? I don__'__t have long to write, but I__'__ll be seeing you soon anyway. You__'__re cordially invited to spend the rest of the summer at Malfoy Manor, we__'__ll pick you up in two days. _

He skimmed down the rest of it with weary eyes, seeing if there was anything else of importance there. There wasn't. The rest merely offered best wishes, pleasant dreams, a wonderful day and the usual drivel. 

He unwrapped the present next, surprised to see a nice long hooded cloak, pitch black but made of the finest material he had seen. On the top left hand corner there was the Potter family mark, what looked like a large black cat inside a silver triangle with a P over the top of it. Nothing original really, nothing exciting, nothing _remarkable_.

He went through the rest of the gifts and letters one by one, unsurprised to find the usual Weasley food package, along with a thick woolly jumper, a beautiful silver chain, a book on chess and a box of pranks. From Remus, he received a few old and tattered books on defence, each of which had notes written in the margins. From Lucius, he received two golden daggers along with a weapons belt, and from Dumbledore he received the golden Gryffindor sword.

So nothing… remarkable. 

The sword and the daggers, were something that he had been learning how to use since Lucius Malfoy was discovered as a spy and went to Hogwarts. He had been giving Harry private lessons, and while he was still nowhere near competent, he was getting there.

He regretted not being able to write out a few short thank you notes but felt too sickly so he shooed the owls before he pushed all of his gifts under his bed, hoping they would stay hidden.

_So as you can all see now, our prettiful boy had an unremarkable night that night, in an unremarkable room, that had the most unremarkable furniture in existence. He had what appeared to be an unremarkable cold, in the middle of summer might I add, and several unremarkable bruises and cuts over his body._

_Yet if only things could have stayed that way for our saviour. If things that stayed that unremarkable way, why, Harry would never have survived the next few weeks, let alone anything else. At 12:19am on the 31__st__ of July is when my unremarkable story turns remarkable…_

After shutting the window (again) behind the owls, Harry made his way over to his cold, hard bed, wanting nothing more than to just close his eyes and fall deep into a dreamless sleep for a good while. 

About halfway across the room, the ache that surrounded his every muscle and his every joint intensified so suddenly that it left him breathless. He felt like he had just been hit with the Cruciatus curse from behind, but he knew that that was impossible. He hadn't quite gone so far in his paranoia as to believe that there were people hiding in his walls. 

He stopped in mid-step and tensed, trying to remain on his feet. He found that he couldn't, nor did he care about that, and fell to his knees. The pain centred on his back and it was almost as if the skin was tearing open, becoming heavier than was natural. He could smell the blood that trickled down, before it began pouring down. 

He curled up into a foetal position, cradling his head as he tried to stop the white hot knives that were stabbing him all over. Before his very eyes, though, his fingers seemed to lengthen slightly and then his nails grew … and grew … and grew… until they were claws as sharp as knives. 

If that wasn't strange enough, then perhaps the fact that he could feel something _growing_ out of his back would do it for you. He screamed. He couldn't stop himself, and he screamed until his throat was raw. His magic was swarming all around him, throwing whatever useless pieces of broken toys or furniture that were against the walls. 

It hurt. 

He rolled around, he rocked backwards and forwards, he bit into his hand, he tried everything, but nothing lessened the pain in the least. His scream turned into an inhuman shriek, then into a hiss … and then darkness.

Before he fell unconscious, though, he was made aware of two sleek black wings that were now attached to his shoulder blades.

_And so begins the story of the century. A story of a life that starts anew at seventeen years old. A story of secrets and of lies. Our loveable friend received a gift of pure undiluted pain, worse even than the unforgivable, from his favourite entity to ever exist; Fate. Along with that pain, any notion of mortality or humanity that our love had held dear for years now was ruthlessly torn away. _

_I shall tell you this now: his wicked stepmother, Vernon Dursley, grumpy and just plain pissed off from the screams that had woken him, charged into his nephew__'__s room. He saw the wings and our poor dear became even more of a freak in his eyes. _

_It was, perhaps, for the best that Harry was unconscious then, for he would not feel the pain of the brutal beating he received until he woke. Vernon kicked and he punched and he kicked some more, then he threw Harry down the stairs and out of the house with all of his belongings, unwilling to let him under their roof again._

_Here now is my tale about a remarkable boy, with a remarkable life, and now a remarkable secret. For how long he would survive, is unknown. What he is, is unknown. What is known is this: He is Harry James Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, the most eligible bachelor; winner of the Witch Weekly__'__s Most Charming Smile award and he is __**remarkable**_.

_Let me tell you why… _

_**stupidlinewon'tshowupstupidlinewon'tshowupstupidlinewon'tshowupendsherebtw**_

_**This is all Treason. It might remind some of another fic she wrote and published. This was where it originally came from.**_

A/N: So you know this will be a random update kind of thing and not as regular as smaller chapters. But I've got it all sorted in my head...it'll be cool!

Oh! And if you like Bleach, Naruto or Gundam Wing, don't forget to check out my other new stuff! #grins#


	2. Chapter One

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognise

**Title:** Vanteerian Charm

**Author:** Lady Treason & Tinkering

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter or any affliates, I'm in no way connected to any of them, I do not mean to infringe on any copyrights or titles and I make no money off of this endeavour.

**Warning:** What can I say? It's a Harry Potter/Smallville crossover. There will be Snarry, there will be Clex.

**Summary: **Mostly HP but then a curious bald headed man and a gangly farm boy wandered into their universe…and were followed. So then the megalomaniac father of said bald headed millionaire started getting even GREATER "disillusions" of grandeur… am I giving away the whole plot here? Dude!

A/N: Perhaps I take unmeant offense but to anyone who doesn't like what we've wrote…don't read. Stupid.

_**Vanteerian Charm**_

_**By Lady Treason & Tinkering**_

_**Disclaimer: **__All HP characters and places belong to JK Rowling. The Vanteerian Race and stuff belongs solely to me. Ha. _

**Chapter One**

Harry tucked his knees into his chest as he made himself as small as he could in the corner of one of the alleys in Little Whinging. He had woken, luckily, before the sun had risen the morning of his birthday, and had managed to gather enough coherence to realise that not only had he been kicked out with everything he owned, but he also had two huge wings sticking out of his back that were rather eye-catching.

He had collected everything up and thrown it into his trunk, leaving nothing but his wand and the cloak he had been given from Draco out. He was, admittedly, surprised that his uncle had even bothered to throw the rest out of the window as well, surprised, but relieved. He shrunk everything then with a wave of his wand, slipped the trunk into his pocket and the cloak on as best as he could with the wings, then fled.

He had spent all day hidden from sight, trying to figure out what the hell was going on, and what was happening to him. He certainly didn't remember anybody else saying that they sprouted wings when they came of age and so he knew that this was an abnormal thing even in the Wizarding world. What was he going to do now? Walking out as he was now would be just as bad, if not worse, than jumping up and down shooting orange elephants from his wand, skipping, as he transfigured things and basically shouting out for all to hear that magic did exist. Merlin, how did he get himself into these things?

A part of him was sure that he would wake up any minute and find out that this was all a dream. In all the books he had read, and all the lectures he had listened too, never had he heard of men with wings. He wanted to curl up and stay hidden until everything had gone back to normal, he had gone back to normal, he wanted to stay away from everybody, muggle and wizards, but he knew he couldn't do that. If anybody would be able to help him and tell him what was going on, it would be his father.

Dumbledore would know.

Dumbledore wouldn't think that he was a freak and lock him up … would he? No, he couldn't afford to even question that now, he needed help and the old headmaster was the only one, perhaps, who would be able to give it to him. Merlin, if Voldemort found out, he would have a field day!

He shook his head and pressed his forehead to his knees. Why couldn't he just be normal?

He tried shifting more than once, to see if the things on his back would move. All he managed to do was make them twitch a little; it was incredibly hard to use muscles that you'd never had before. He didn't even know how. What he did know, though, was that he had to get in contact with his family, and he needed to stay hidden from the view of everybody until then.

He travelled only at night and then only through the back alleys, unless he had no choice but to go out onto the main part of the street for a minute.

So far he had been lucky enough to avoid even coming close to other people. It was like he could hear them from a good distance away, could smell them as well. When he did, he was able to move into the darkest corner and hide behind a dumpster or something similar until they passed. Most of the time, it was only drunken teenagers and they only spared the time of day for themselves and each others, so he was fine.

Now it was the third day since his birthday, he was cold, wet, hungry and feeling so terribly lost. He didn't know what to do. It was only a small comfort, knowing that Lucius, Draco and all of his friends and family would be looking for him now. They would have noticed when he didn't answer any of the letters that they must have sent by now, and then there was the fact that he was supposed to be at Malfoy Manor now. Yes, they would know, and they would be looking for him.

Would they know why he had been thrown out of the Dursleys?

Would they know about the wings?

Did he want them to know?

Half of him did, it would save him a lot of trouble and perhaps they would even know what was happening to him. The other half hoped that they would never find out though, he didn't need something else to make him more of a freak. He didn't need anything else to make him stand out in a crowd. He just needed to be Harry, nothing more.

His thoughts were going in circles, and he knew that he had to try and get some food. Sleep would help as well; he hadn't allowed himself to do more than close his eyes for a while yet, scared that somebody would find him when he wasn't expecting it. he pulled his black cloak tighter around him, still unused to the black wings that came out of his shoulder blade, went up to the top of his neck and then went down to just back his knees. They were uncomfortable.

When night was settled completely around him, he peered through the darkness, able to see clearly through the shadows, even though his glasses were lost days ago. How was he going to get any food? He was weak, covered in bruises, but all of his cuts and welts appear to have cleared up completely, without leaving a single mark. He ached everywhere and he was weary … but he needed to eat.

After checking that there was nobody around, he uncurled himself from the ball and pushed himself to his feet shakily. His joints protested strongly against the movement but he ignored them with a grimace and instead moved cautiously forward. He kept his back to the wall, as much as the wings would allow, and sidestepped slowly and carefully towards the entrance of the alley and onto the streets.

When he saw that there was nobody there, he took a deep breath and then stepped out of the shadows. As soon as he did, though, he felt a burning itch on his cheek. He blinked but took no notice of it and stepped further under the light of the street. The pain intensified and before he knew what he was doing, he drew back with a hiss that sounded much like a cat and jarred his wings on the wall again, bathed in shadows.

He blinked, and then whimpered. What the hell had just happened? He drew back completely, back into the alley, and then fell to his knees in the darkness again, panting as if he had just run a marathon. He hurt. His entire head felt like it had been held in flames, he glanced down at his two shaking hands, cringing when he saw the burn marks there, and the skin that was already peeling back to reveal raw red wrinkled skin underneath. Blood oozed out and covered his hands, and he could feel it trickling down his face too, knowing that that was in just as bad of a state as his hands.

What the fuck?

He glanced back out at the street with open confusion. There was nobody there. If it was down to Death Eaters, they would be running in there now to incapacitate him when he's injured. It wasn't Voldemort either. There was nobody there… his senses told him that, and his eyes confirmed it.

So what the hell had happened…

… Unless, the light?

He dragged his eyes up to the streetlamp that he had been stood over, and almost instantly his eyes started itching. The longer he stared at it, the worse the itch grew until it felt like a dull burning, and he had to glance away quickly.

Great.

Now he appeared to be allergic to light.

How could one just suddenly grow wings and turn allergic to light over night? This went against everything he knew. Besides, he was perfectly fine in the daylight. Nothing happened then … unless this was a new development. Unless he was about to shrivel up and turn into dust when the sun rose. Perfect. Now he'd turned into some sort of twisted vampire, who didn't apparently need blood, but had bloody wings. He'd never heard of vampires having wings. He couldn't even be a normal evil dark monster!

He buried his head in his hands, but then cried out when he managed to hurt both in the process. This was just going from bad to worse. The saying "out of the frying pan and into the fire" seemed to be weirdly appropriate. What the fuck was he going to do? This just wasn't even funny. He was so sick of being _him_.

He pulled his trunk out of his pocket with great difficulty and then fumbled with the catch, his hands swollen and oozing pus now, unwilling to work as he needed them too. He managed to crack it open and then pulled out one of his hand-me-down t-shirts. He put one end of it under his knee and then put all of his weight on that as he grabbed the rest with his hands, ignoring the pain, and used his teeth to tear off two strips.

He spent the next hour then trying to tie the makeshift bandages around his hands as tightly as he could possibly bear. The pain was excruciating and he was sure that it wouldn't have hurt this much if he had just stuck his whole hand in the fire for a minute. It most definitely was not normal.

When he was done, he shrunk his trunk and put it back in his pocket carefully and then climbed to his feet once more. He needed to find a nice dark place to hide before the sun rose, just in case. He didn't want to take any more chances.

He would wake up soon, he had too.

* * *

Three nights later, he still hadn't woken up.

He had found out, rather luckily, that the sun didn't affect him the same as other lights. He didn't know why, but then again, he didn't know anything about a lot of things, so why should this be any different? It was a relief though.

He still hadn't been able to find anything to eat, except for a half-eaten burger that he had found on the ground. Thankfully, it was wrapped up a little and so he didn't feel quite as disgusted as he would have done otherwise. Unfortunately, he didn't even manage to chew the cold rubbery burger for long before he spat it out. Not because it was cold, not because it probably had had ants and fuck knows what climbing all over it, not because someone else might of slobbered on it… but because he just… did.

It was as if he could taste every single ingredient that when into making it. His throat closed up and then he started heaving violently and throwing up so hard that his stomach and back ached in protest.

That had been yesterday morning, and Harry was still collapsed against a wall in some back alley, hugging his knees, shivering and throwing up whenever he could. Blood pooled out now, instead of the bit of sick he had managed. He will ill, he was dying, he was sure of it. For once, he didn't care. He just wished it was all over with.

He pressed his forehead to his knee, ignoring the dulled burning pain that was still surrounding his face, and shivered. He had been in a cold sweat since this whole started, and he could only guess that perhaps he had found something else that he was now allergic to. It couldn't be food poisoning, considering it hit instantaneously.

His hands were still bandaged and looked twice the normal size. The pus was starting to seep through the cloth, but he had managed to cast a few wandless healing charms on his face before exhaustion hit. He hadn't been able to walk on for two days now and he knew that he needed to change place before he was found. He had to believe that Voldemort and the Death Eaters were after him as well, if he wanted to survive long enough to get back to Hogwarts.

Somehow. He wondered where sweet Hedwig was now. She hadn't been there that night he had been thrown out, as she had been off hunting after days cooped in the house. Had she returned, to find that he wasn't there again? Was Hermione or Ron looking after her for him? He hoped she was alright, and he knew that if anybody could find him, she could.

He was trembling violently still, but he pushed himself to his feet. His stomach appeared to be settling slightly, even if his throat was absolutely raw from his being sick. He found a small comfort in all this: he most certainly wasn't a vampire. The taste of blood in the back of his throat had brought him to heaving again. Swallowing it as it rose hadn't brought him any strength at all. Not much of a comfort, but a small one all the same.

He moved slowly and cautiously, the arrival of the wings now the last of his worries as he walked on shaky legs. He kept his awareness open wide, stretching it out as far as he could as he slipped out of one alley and down into another. He wouldn't be able to go far, but at least he was away from that same spot now.

He knew he was weakening, because he needed food and rest, but he couldn't. Yes, he had been stuck on his arse for the last two days throwing up, but that was not rest. He needed a good sleep, not the little dose he allowed himself before shaking awake again.

The alley he was in now was really quite narrow, barely enough room for two people to walk side by side, if that. There was grass growing on either side, tall and tangled with weeds, leaving the smallest of paths in the middle.

He was about halfway down this alley when he found that he had to stop, not only because he felt that he couldn't walk another step, but because there were people coming. Three of them, men, he would never be able to hide from them. He was too tired to turn around and run in the opposite direction. Indeed, all he could do was curl up into a tight ball in the grass and pull his cloak around him as he shut his eyes and waited.

'_Please don__'__t see me. Please don__'__t see me. Please don__'__t see me._' became a mantra in his mind as the people came closer. He felt something, like a blanket, fall over him but he didn't dare to move or look. The longer he stayed there still and silent, the more it seemed to take out of him. He felt his magic entwining with the heavy-blanket thing.

Then the men were right there in front of him.

He held his breath for as long as he could, but the men didn't even turn to look at him. They walked straight passed without a single glance or anything. When they were gone, he chanced a look and raised his head, but they were out of sight now. The last thought he had before fallen unconscious, was the fact that the shadows had somehow entwined with his magic to hide him.

Then he closed his eyes, and was lost.

* * *

A/N: Okay, ahem. To those who read but didn't review, shame on you. Do you know how small a fandom Bleach actually has considering how big the anime is? And even smaller the readership for my favourite pairing Byakuya/Renji. Now if my Bleach story with that pairing managed to rustle up more reviews than a HP fic…obviously the readers have been skimming somewhere. That's all I'm saying on that matter. #points big flashing neon sign to the review button for people too dense for more roundabout speech#


	3. Chapter Two

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognise

**Title:** Vanteerian Charm

**Author:** Lady Treason & Tinkering

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter or any affliates, I'm in no way connected to any of them, I do not mean to infringe on any copyrights or titles and I make no money off of this endeavour.

**Warning:** What can I say? It's a Harry Potter/Smallville crossover. There will be Snarry, there will be Clex.

**Summary: **Mostly HP but then a curious bald headed man and a gangly farm boy wandered into their universe…and were followed. So then the megalomaniac father of said bald headed millionaire started getting even GREATER "disillusions" of grandeur… am I giving away the whole plot here? Dude!

A/N: Let's play a game...this game's called..."Give Me This Song's Name-Opposing Song". Yeah it's a mouthful. Let me start you off...Closer by Nine Inch Nails, So Far Away by Nickleback...you get it? Send me some nice ones in your reviews!

_**Vanteerian Charm**_

_**By Lady Treason & Tinkering**_

_**Disclaimer: **__All HP characters and places belong to JK Rowling. Don't own Smallville either. The Vanteerian Race and stuff belongs solely to me. Ha. _

_**Chapter Two**_

Harry shifted slightly on the bed, wincing when he jarred something on his back. From what he could tell, it was something big and smooth and fluffy. He felt along it for a minute with a small sigh and then allowed himself a stretch. The bed was most definitely much more comfortable than he was used to at the Dursleys, but then again, he _was_ still tired so perhaps he was just feeling slightly more grateful than usual.

He stroked down the feathers with a contented sigh and then smiled as he heard a deep rumbling purr sound in the room. Obviously, said furry thing was a cat. It didn't feel like a cat … but he didn't feel like opening his eyes either.

Everything was so quiet for once; there was no snoring coming from his Uncle's bedroom, no stamping or shouting coming from his Aunt as she kicked him out of bed to make breakfast. Nothing at all but his own heart beating and the purr that seemed so loud and so near. He continued feeling along the thing on the bed behind him, twisting his arm around the back so that he could reach. No, it was much too big to be a cat…

His eyes snapped open as he remembered. The wings… his uncle throwing him out … the burning… the hunger… the sickness… the magic… and then nothing. He peered through the darkened room, trying to see if there was anybody else there, or basically if he could figure out where he was. He knew that it wasn't Hogwarts, because the distant hum of the wards was missing. It wasn't the Malfoy's, or they would have left a light on, knowing of Harry's unease in the dark, especially when he woke up after nightmares.

Ironic really that he, an apparent creature of the night who was allergic to lights, could be a little afraid of the dark. It wasn't bloody fair.

He wasn't in the Burrow either. The noises of the ghoul was missing, along with the warmth and familiarity that he normally felt without even having to open his eyes. No, he was in none of those places … so where was he?

His eyes sharpened and he could see then that to the left of his bed there was a toilet that had a little curtain around it. Next to the bed was some sort of box thing that was on a metal rail and at the top of said rail there was a bag of what appeared to be blood, and then something else. That was it, the whole expanse of his room. A bed, a box and a toilet. He moved to stand up but then was stopped when he saw several tubes trailing from the box and the bags there down into a needle which was stuck to both arms and held there with tape.

The first thing he noticed when he looked down at himself, was the fact that he was completely and utterly naked, wearing nothing but these needles and a fresh clean bandage on his hands. He recognised the wire things instantly, something that muggles used in hospitals for ill patients who couldn't feed themselves, and needed blood. Along with them, there were several patches stuck all over his chest, legs and arms that were obviously there to monitor the heart rate and … well … something else.

But he couldn't be in a muggle hospital…

… not with the wings!

They couldn't see the wings!

He jumped to his feet, not even wincing when the needles in his arms twisted inside him. He used his still bandaged hands to tear off the tape and then all of the patches as well, throwing them to the floor. When he was free of all wires, he moved away from the bed completely and backed up.

Until he hit something.

He spun around quickly, fear clear in his emerald eyes but saw that it wasn't a person or anything like that. Technically, it wasn't a wall either. He reached out and pressed both of his palms flat against the glass that separated him from the rest of the large room. He could just see, off to the right, a set of double doors with a light on. Almost instantly his eyes started to itch as he looked and so he turned away quickly. This wasn't good.

What the hell was he supposed to do now? The glass was thick and he'd never be able to break it with his hand. The box thing that had been feeding him stuff would probably just bounce off it … and alert whoever was out there as well. He remembered that one time in the Zoo where he had managed to make a pane of glass disappear but knew that he was too weak now to even try it.

Perhaps … perhaps if he preserved his strength and gave it a little while, he would be able to get out of here. After all, using a little magic to escape was hardly anything compared to the wings sticking out of his bloody back.

Then again … there was always the possibility that he wasn't in a muggle hospital. There was always the possibility that he had been captured by Voldemort. The Dark Lord might get a kick out of stabbing people with needles, one would never know. Besides, he might find it mocking…

… this seriously wasn't helping.

He shivered and moved over to the far wall, as far away from the glass window as he could get and then sat down, facing the corner as he hugged his legs and pressed his forehead to his knees. He had his back to whoever might be watching and then shivered again, almost unconsciously shifting his wings so that they wrapped around him.

Of course, it registered as soon as he realised that he was alone that it had been him purring, but he didn't think anything of it now. He just wanted to go home. He wanted his father and his friends. He wanted them to tell him that everything was fine, and that he wasn't really an unnatural freak… and while they were at it, they could tell him that Voldemort tripped over a rubber duck and drowned in a puddle.

For this first time since all this shit started and things went so wrong, Harry let the hot tears slide down his cheeks as he tried to draw comfort off himself.

* * *

It must have been a good four hours later when the sun rose and natural light filled the room. Harry hadn't moved from where he was crouched, facing the corner and using his wings to offer heat and cover himself. He tensed when he heard the doors open and then the sound of footsteps approaching. More than one person.

So many worse-case scenarios had been plaguing his mind since he woke to find himself here, and he wasn't sure whether to be relieved or not when he realised that they weren't Death Eaters and Voldemort wasn't among them. He didn't have to look to know that, he couldn't sense any dark magic on them, and could, in fact, only sense magic around one of his visitors.

Still, he huddled closer to himself and tightened his grip on his knees, trying to make himself invisible. Listening.

"_As you can see, the subject appears to be in distress. According to the machines, it woke at exactly five twenty this morning. When it woke, it appeared to be calm until it realised where it was. It panicked, the heart rate accelerating and then tore the detectors off itself._"

That was a man's voice, someone that he didn't recognise at all. Harry shivered and a few more tears slid down his cheeks as he realised that they were talking about him. _It_. He was an _it_ now.

"Now, now, Dr. Hamilton." A woman said firmly and Harry peeked at her from under his arm. Peeked at them all. There were six of them in total, all wearing long white lab coats and all holding clipboards and pens. He picked out the wizard of the lot immediately. An old man with sparkling blue eyes, a short white beard, and short white hair that was stood right in the middle of all of them. He didn't know why, but the man seemed to be emitting different colours, and transparent symbols floated around the man's head. "_The subject_, as you say, is quite _obviously_ a male child."

"It is in my lab for study, it is an _it_." The man replied coldly.

Harry blinked and looked at the woman again, still not uncurling himself or even lifting his head. The woman stepped closer, ignoring the others, and then placed her hand on the glass, smiling.

"What's your name, young man?" She asked pleasantly and Harry finally lifted his head slowly to look at her, meeting her eyes. He licked his lips, and wondered whether to make up a new name off the top of his head, but then decided against it.

"Harry." He whispered in reply and then wondered why he bothered when they all glanced down and wrote on their clipboards again. He tensed at that and then pressed his head to his knees again, squeezing his eyes shut tight.

"That's a nice name Harry." The woman said again, just as kindly, but Harry didn't look up this time. He didn't bother to acknowledge that she'd spoken at all.

"How did you find him?" Someone else asked and Harry listened again, wanting to know this himself… along with other things.

"We received a phone call from a Mr. Vernon Dursley who claimed that there was something unnatural and unusual walking the streets of Little Whinging. Normally, we would ignore a claim like this, but others have reported hearing strange noises, like a hissing or a purring, reported something stalking around the backs of their houses … thinking it was a burglar. We sent out our intelligence silently and found it unconscious." That same man said, the one that had been speaking at the beginning.

Harry closed his eyes again, sighing; he should have known that Dursley would sell him out like that. He'd probably been paid to keep his mouth shut about it as well. As if it wasn't enough to throw him out in the first place. Some family he had. He could feel eyes burning into him, but none as much as the ones belonging to the wizard. The wizard who would know who he was exactly, if he didn't know already. He turned away from them further, his wings blocking their view to him.

He jumped when he heard a door open, though, a door that was much closer than the one these doctors had come through. When he sensed someone approaching him. He jumped and turned around quickly, scrambling to see who it was with his eyes wide open in fear. It was the woman. He tucked his knees up into his chest again, his hands out as it to protect his face from blows automatically. He noticed that his fingers had lengthened again and his nails had once more turned into sharp claws.

The woman seemed to notice that too, because she slowed her approach and fell gently to her knees just out of reach.

"Hey, Harry." she said softly, friendly, as she reached out to touch him but stopped an inch away. "We're not going to hurt you, little man. I've got some food here for you, are you hungry?" she asked again and Harry lifted his head in spite of himself, eyeing the plate that she was carrying with hunger.

"W- What is it?"

"It's just a salad for now, Harry dear." The woman said as she moved closer, slowly, cautiously, until she was eventually sat down next to him with her shoulder touching his. "We ran a few allergy tests while you were asleep when we saw that you were ill, turns out you're allergic to salt … did you know that?" She asked conversationally and Harry shook his head, keeping his eyes on the food. Instead of asking for it though, he glanced up at her and worried his bottom lip between his teeth.

"Where am I?"

"You're at the Greater Manchester Research Centre, Harry. As you heard Dr. Hamilton say over there, you were found unconscious…"

"You're not going to let me go, are you?" He interrupted in a small voice and wasn't surprised when the silence stretched over them and she passed the salad to him to break it.

"I'm afraid not, Harry. Not yet anyway, there are things _we_ need to understand." She settled for eventually and Harry closed his eyes, resting his head back on the wall as he ate a piece of lettuce. He knew that they had put something in his food, a crushed up powder and a little liquid, but he was just so hungry … soo hungry…

"I just wanted to be normal." He whispered to himself, about the scar on his head and the life that he had led so far. Fortunately, or not, the woman took it to mean the wings on his back.

"They are beautiful though, Harry. Incredibly beautiful. Were you born with them?" She asked again and he could detect a note of steel under her seemingly conversational tone and knew that she was just digging for information. The others were still watching, after all.

"I – I-" He paused and then hesitated, unsure of what to say. He knew that he had to get out of here at some point, and if he was taken from here by either Voldemort or Dumbledore, then he knew they would be killed (Voldemort) or obliviated (Dumbledore) so that they didn't get a chance to say anything … "I – I don't remember."

"No? What's the earliest you can remember then?"

"I – I'm not sure – two years perhaps?" He offered hesitantly, still munching on the salad. He could see the other doctors, except the wizard, scribbling what he said down in their notes, but jumped when he felt the woman's hand on the top of his wing.

"Who hit you, Harry?" She murmured softly and then smiled with pity when he blanched. "Your reaction leads to the conclusion of abuse, child. Perhaps even frequent abuse… who hit you?"

"My – my uncle." He muttered truthfully, bowing his head and looking away from her then. "I'm tired."

"You go to sleep then Harry; I'll see you when you wake up."

With that she stood up and ruffled his hair with a wide smile before she crossed the room and slipped back out of the glass door at the end. He knew the others were still watching him and so he finished off the salad and curled up into a tight ball in the corner, aware that he had been slipped a sleeping powder.

* * *

When he next woke up, it was to find that he hadn't been rescued from these scientists yet … but he wasn't in the same room he had been in before either. No, this time he was on the other side of the glass and was lying on a cold metal table with cold metal clamps around his wrists, ankles, and thighs. He was faced down so that as soon as he opened his eyes, he could see through the hole that was in the table for his face to go, and straight down at the tiled floor.

He could see a set off feet, and could hear several people moving around but he couldn't see much more than that. He tried to pull against the binds holding him, but as soon as they saw him do that, a hand pressed down between his wings and on the small of his back, forcefully. Holding him down.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked in a small and panicked voice, shuddering when a second pair of hands pushed his long hair out of the way to expose his neck and shoulders. One hand rubbed in soothing circles, or what he supposed was supposed to be soothing, while another ran lightly over the feathers of his wings.

"Shhh Harry, we're just taking a closer look. We wont hurt you." A woman said, that same woman from earlier, and Harry tensed again, trying to pull away.

"Stop it. I don't want to. Let me go!"

"We can't do that Harry, you know that." The woman said again, a little patronising this time and Harry bared his teeth to the uncaring floor, unable to wrench away from any of their touches.

He still couldn't believe this. To think that what? A fortnight ago? His only worries had been his uncle's beatings and the hovering threat of Lord Voldemort. Never would he have imagined that he would sprout wings… and even if he had, he would never have imagined being captured by muggle scientists. This was taking the piss. It was like something out of those horror movies that Dudley watched all the time.

Harry slumped forward in defeat and closed his eyes tightly as they started at the bottom. He felt soft fingers stroke along one of his feathers and was surprised by how sensitive it was, but before he could even try to ponder that and pretend this wasn't happening, they plucked it out of him. He cried out and tried to arch backwards, flinching as the feather was torn from him.

The useless woman continued to murmur what she thought were soothing words to him as the patch where the feather had been stolen was rubbed to ease the sting. He ignored her, unable to get his mind around the incredulity of the situation he found himself in now. Why did it always happen to him?

He didn't say a word or so much as flinch as hands continued their examination, feeling down his legs, up his back and around his sides to see if the bones _felt_ normal. Idiots. Then the hands were on his wings again, pushing some of the feathers to the sides to get to the muscle and skin underneath.

As they did that, he could feel something growing in his chest, a deep rumbling noise, and before he could realise, with horror, what it was … he was purring. The hand on his back stilled for a minute before it carried on with a wry chuckle and Harry bit his lip to stop any further noise from leaving him.

"It purrs. Some relation to a cat perhaps? But the wings…" The man trailed off thoughtfully.

Those fingers prodded up and down the length and width of both wings, and then lifted them up to see underneath too. When they lifted them, the most peculiar sensation ran down Harry's spine and a tingling started in his stomach. He felt a gentle finger run down the length of the muscle underneath and the purring burst out of him and grew louder.

He stared down at the floor in mounting horror as he felt a twitch at his groin and then he was slowly hardening as they stroked and prodded at his wings. This was just… humiliating!

He shut his eyes tight again and tried to place himself in any other situation, thinking of everything and anything that wasn't in the least bit arousing. He nearly succeeded in stopping it completely when he thought about Voldemort, but then when fingers curled around the bit where his wings met his back, a wanton mewl escaped from him and he hardened the rest of the way.

"Stop it. Please stop it." he whispered, completely mortified. "Please … just for a minute… stop."

The hands stilled for a minute and Harry started to relax again.

"Arousal caused by examination, implies to the sensitivity of the … wing." The man that was prodding him said … and then he continued. Harry groaned and then bit his lip harshly, trying desperately to will it down, but the man carried on poking and stroking along the part where it connected to his back and soon Harry was panting, purring and wriggling, trying to keep himself under control. There was a spot, just underneath this same bit, that sent waves of pleasure throughout his whole body and Harry started begging them to stop again, begging them to give him a minute even as his hips rubbed against the table of their own accord.

Still they continued…

… and then he came.

He lay there panting and trying to catch his breath for a minute and he felt the subtle telltale signs of magic around his groin, a cleaning charm. He was grateful for that, but he was completely humiliated, he was scared and he wanted out of here now.

"Someone get me a vial for collect…"

He wrenched backwards, surprised when the metal claps broke in half and then he jumped to his feet and backed away from them all, the claws out in front of him like weapons, his eyes narrowed.

He hissed at the woman when she tried to come closer.

He ignored the gentle but scared voices that tried to tell him that it was okay, that it was a completely normal reaction his age, and instead searched around for the door. When he saw it, he charged straight for it. His magic was acting on its own now, throwing any items … and people … that were in his path, out of his way.

He could hear them scrambling over things to try and reach him from behind, but his eyes were fixed on the door. Therefore, he didn't see the wizard step directly into his path until he had crashed into him, and arms wrapped around him to stop him from falling backwards. Harry struggled against him, trying to get out of his grip without actually hurting him, but the arms merely held him in an embrace and then lips were pressed to his ear.

"Help is coming. Stay here where Albus can find you."

Then, before he could do anything, could even process the words that had been whispered to him, three men grabbed his arms from behind and heaved him back over to his glass cage, throwing him inside.

* * *

A/N: Mah! Thought of a few more while editing...Breathe Your Name Sixpence None The Richer, No Air Jordan Sparks&Chris Brown and Forgotten Linkin Park, Unforgettable Natalie Cole. Ha! That one's good. Obvious but good.

Err, #tries not to distract from the story# Please review! Not just to play the game. Tell me some stuff about the story too.

Goes back to thinking up more songs...


	4. Chapter Three

**Title:** Vanteerian Charm

**Author:** Lady Treason & Tinkering

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter or any affliates, I'm in no way connected to any of them, I do not mean to infringe on any copyrights or titles and I make no money off of this endeavour.

**Warning:** What can I say? It's a Harry Potter/Smallville crossover. There will be Snarry, there will be Clex.

**Summary: **Mostly HP but then a curious bald headed man and a gangly farm boy wandered into their universe…and were followed. So then the megalomaniac father of said bald headed millionaire started getting even GREATER "disillusions" of grandeur… am I giving away the whole plot here? Dude!

A/N: Only one person played my game #pouts# but quixotic-hope was VERY good. My favourites were "Slaves"-Bad Religion AND "Be Free"-Papa Roach, Sensory Overload"-Bad Religion AND "Numb"-Linkin Park and "Sleep"-Story of the Year AND "Wake Up"-Lost Prophets. Come people, let's keep the game going!

_**Vanteerian Charm**_

_**By Lady Treason & Tinkering**_

_**Disclaimer: **__All HP characters and places belong to JK Rowling. The Vanteerian Race and stuff belongs solely to me. Ha. _

**Chapter Three**

"We have…American sponsors of our experiments…very well off." Harry moaned softly and struggled up off the bed. He was still in the glass room. He whimpered, disoriented from his quick nap needed after the sap on his magic, in his condition. Then he realized he had _visitors_.

Dr. Hamilton and the woman were back and staring at him. He was starting to get nervous when Hamilton turned away from him matter-of-factly and went back to talking as if his presence didn't matter.

"It could create a whole new human society, a whole new race. With the DNA from our other project…and it," Here Harry was gestured to. "We'll be heralded as the ones to start a whole new era in human civilization."

The woman was frowning. "I can see the point behind some of your ideas. Using them for medical breakthroughs and such but…trying to mix two species that we know nothing about, where experimentation could destroy the only specimens we have? I'm not so sure about that Doctor."

Harry shivered at the way the man smirked then, totally detached. "It's a good thing then that you're not head of this project then Ms. Chang isn't it?"

"Shouldn't you have clearance with our new sponsors first then, Dr. Hamilton?" The woman replied tightly. "Even if you are head of the project, if you lose what these big-buck people are sponsoring you're going to be in the deep shit."

"Do not question me. It's still _my_ project, with or without him." Hamilton replied coldly. "Besides, the sponsor is coming tomorrow morning by jet. He's very interested in having a new…collector's item, since he discovered his own first…creature." The doctor sneered disgustedly. "Anyway, let's do some more tests…and I think we should set aside yesterday's security camera footage also…"

This sponsor sounded like a cold person. More so than the doctor himself even, Harry thought, withdrawing under his bed sheets with a shudder. Oh he wished he'd never got these wings. He'd never even made it to home from Little Whinging, got the chance to find out what the hell he was! He sniffled, if he had to be something weird on the inside…he wished he could at least hide his wings…

* * *

Harry slept fitfully that night after a lunch of powder covered salad and the rest of the day a spate of tests he'd gone through half asleep. The only thing he was sure had happened was an X-ray for sure and the pain of the flashing light had been excruciating. He still had some lingering discomfort from the flashes. He'd have to let the Headmaster know they had proof of this abnormality…but then he fell asleep with that thought and the next morning when he woke that was the farthest thing on his mind…

"I'm very interested in seeing the anomaly your team found. A winged boy you say?" A curiously excited voice asked.

"Yes sir. We've so far only run some preliminary tests, got a few samples and done an X-ray or two but with you sponsoring us…"

"Ah, yes. You want to make sure you'll get your money." The voices were outside of the first door into his room and Harry lifted his head sleepily, still half drugged. "If this is what you promised you'll get a nice, big 'experimental funding' donation to keep you going."

"Then you'll get what we promised." Dr. Hamilton stepped in the door first holding it open for the person behind him. A distinguished man followed him in and the doctor let the door swing closed. "It, was passing off as a boy, name of Harry. If we find out his full name maybe you could make sure no one comes looking for him…"

There was a pause as Harry and the man looked at each other across the room through the glass, the man looking over Dr. Hamilton's shoulder with an incredulous little smile. The man had auburn hair layered with many streaks of grey and dark red now. Harry found himself retreating slightly under his blanket. The man did look…cruel.

"Remind me again, why I'm wasting my time here?" The man said, humour gone.

"Mr. Luthor! The boy is a phenomenon…" Dr. Hamilton turned and pointed almost angrily before freezing when he saw Harry.

"Your wings…where are your wings boy!"

"Huh?" Harry mumbled sleepily. It looked like he was mouthing stupidly through the glass and Luthor laughed again.

"This was a brilliant attempt for funding Doctor but next time have the people who are costuming your 'phenomenon', on time?" He said sarcastically.

"Mr. Luthor! Sir, I don't know why…more tests are following this but he did have wings yesterday. We have documented pictures…the samples alone prove it and the security videos will assure you…we will get those wings back on him…wherever they are…"

"I don't have time to waste. I have legitimate business' I need to keep on track Mr. Hamilton…"

"Follow me please…I'll get some people in to run some more tests on the _specimen_…"

Harry was slipping in and out of consciousness as Dr. Chang entered with a group pushing a table full of silver objects and smiled at him through his fuzzy sight.

* * *

Lionel Luthor poured over some reports and research sample copies of notes the scientific team had made and tried to bury real excitement. It was true. The boy had had wings before and some full body X-rays had revealed they were somehow retracted into his back. Not the full wings but the cartilage of the appendages themselves…how the feathers grew back, who knew…but besides that, what had really excited him was an idea the Doctor had put forward.

He could potentially lose a specimen or perhaps both…or he could gain an offspring of both of his subjects…together. He could only imagine…the things he didn't know yet about either of them, what could possibly happen if they were merged, the possibilities were staggering!

Both the specimen were technically male yes, but the X-ray of his newest anomaly, 'Harry', had shown that it had the ability to reproduce. The thing was, unlike his other specimen who looked exteriorly human at least, 'Harry' _was_ totally human…except for two small _ovaries_ hidden in a slightly larger pelvic cavity and of course the wings.

He would have to find even more selective doctors and research scientists than he had in some of his secret operations working on this. No one could find out or even hear an _inkling_ about this project…

"Dad, I'm beginning to wonder if I wasted my time coming back here to push papers for you."

Lionel stood smoothly, sweeping his papers and files together as his son came strolling into his office.

"Lex. Ah, this again. Son, you know that due to your last psychotic break…"

"I work at a shit farm. And make my money from shit, but I don't want to be fed it too." Lex said, lips twisted wryly. He stood, legs braced, before his father's desk with his hands in his pockets and waited. "Well? No more excuses?"

"I quite frankly don't have the time to spar verbally with you. I have some important things to work on." Lionel gestured to his desk. "So if you could excuse my shortness…perhaps you have some papers to push?"

Lex blinked in surprise before eyeing the files on the desk. "What are you working on?"

"A new acquisition. I'd love to tell you about it but I can't. So Lex. You know where the door is."

Lex stared at him for a moment before smiling and turning, gliding out. Lionel stared after him before a frown marred his brow. His son was intrigued…and he already knew that was never a good thing. Time to find an old bone to throw at him…Cadmus Labs perhaps? Losing that alone would be nothing compared to his two specimen.

* * *

Lex had merely been curious before. Now he was suspicious.

His father had just _given_ him all projects under Cadmus Labs. All he already had broken into on his own and knew about by now, but this was big considering his father had been trying to sell to him that he was still unstable…

Now he was _giving_ him an old project?

He finally decided to get back to Dr. Hamilton on having that treatment done to restore his memories while getting a few private investigators on his father. A tail or two couldn't hurt either. He wanted to find out what it was that had his father this…distracted, he would play so sloppily…

* * *

"Harry," Someone shook the still body on the bed and whispered again. "Time to wake up."

"Uh…ugh." Harry squeezed his eyes shut tighter and tried to curl into the bed. He hurt so much.

"Potter! Get yourself out of that bed!" Someone else hissed at him. "The Headmaster didn't send us here to watch you sleep!"

Harry shivered in his sleep and rolled over with a groan at the dull aches in his shoulders. His abdomen ached too but the sleeping powder the scientists were giving him that made him slow-minded was turning him into a zombie, an inch from sleeping, always. But at least it was night…night was good…

"Lucius. This isn't natural sleep. He's drugged up to his eyeballs." The second voice said dryly.

"These disgusting…can't believe they did this to him!" Lucius huffed as Harry fell asleep again and pulled his wand. "You take out the cameras. I think Kingsley went to look for rooms with anything interesting and security tapes." He pulled a watch-chain from his robe pocket. "We've got ten minutes to be back here."

Severus smiled caustically and withdrew his wand. "I'll be punctual."

The next eight minutes were spent in systematic destruction on the lab rooms and cameras before the infiltration group of four regrouped in the glass room with Harry.

"Time to go. Did you disable their sprinkler system?" Lucius got a nod from the wizard that had been with the group of scientists and pointed his wand around the room outside Harry's glass cage. With few muttered words and a few shots the room was burning merrily. And then when they were all touching the chain they disappeared out of the glass room without a trace.

They portkeyed from Manchester to Edinburgh, to break down the size of the jump, then from there to Hogwarts. They appeared right in the Hospital Wing and Lucius was just in time to catch a faint Harry and carry him to one of the beds. Kingsley and Diggle left immediately.

"Mr. Malfoy! What…what has happened to Mr. Potter?" Madam Pomfrey said sadly looking down at him. In the light of day the group did realize he looked scarred and thin along with pathetically sick.

"He's been being drugged I believe by the muggles. He'll need a cleansing potion." Severus said shortly. "I need to get back to my dungeons to brew. I'll return tomorrow when Albus deigns to tell us what this is all about."

Severus cast the boy one last look before shaking his head and leaving. Lucius sat next to his bedside and sighed taking a limp hand.

"Madam Pomfrey…The Headmaster had better tell me soon why they would do this to Harry. I can't believe they did all this to him for no reason. I, I could love him like a son. Draco loves him like a brother…those muggles!" Lucius hissed angrily.

"Calm yourself. They certainly didn't do all of this. This scarring is partly magical. It's healing slowly on its own but I believe a few applications of salve will help greatly. He's so thin though…weren't they feeding him? Poor boy, it's always him…"

Lucius stayed at Harry's bedside a few hours until around four in the morning Harry stirred fitfully and opened his eyes.

"Harry. How are you?" Lucius whispered. He leaned over and stroked his forehead lightly, frowning at the heat.

Harry croaked. "It's…not you? Is it…?"

Lucius smiled slightly. "If you mean is it Lucius well then yes it is me. Water? Let me just turn on the lamp…"

"NO!" Harry drew away from him suddenly, like a wild beast. "No! Don't…don't let it touch me…" He whimpered.

"What?" Lucius withdrew his hand from the lamp. "What's wrong?"

"Light…light hurts." Harry turned back onto his back and turned his face to Lucius lifting shaky hands. Lucius felt more scarring there, worse than his face and cringed.

"How? Is it all light? Are you a…"

Harry gave a dry laugh. "Not a vampire. Just…artificial light I think. Sun's okay…" He said drowsily.

"Don't fall asleep yet." Lucius said sharply and poured the water in the dim. Harry watched in the dark, eyes glowing slightly and murmured 'stop' when the glass was full. Lucius stared in the dark before offering him the glass. "Can you see? Without your glasses?"

Harry gulped desperately before answering finally after a deep breath. "And much better than you probably." He said more strongly. "Something's wrong with me. I dunno what but…Dumbledore can fix it. I…just want to sleep now."

Lucius nodded and stayed as Harry smiled slightly offering him back the glass to lay on the bedside table and then shut his eyes with a sigh. After a moment his breathing evened out and after Poppy returned and applied the salve to his face and hands he seemed to be breathing deeply.

And if Lucius had been slightly curious before he was itching with it now. The Headmaster had better be ready to explain everything later this morning…

* * *

A/N: I can tell there's a lot of...sub-interest because of the alerts for this story...but why won't you review? It kind of hurts my pride...yeah, my pride. I've got an ego, I've got a _bit_ of an ego. But geez, if you don't stroke it occassionally, it'll shrivel.

And then we'll both be unsatisfied and frustrated, we'll seperate and you'll file for divorce while I burn your clothes...whoo#has out of body moment# heh, got side-tracked there. Naw, naw, seriously. Click the little button, feed the review monster.


	5. Chapter Four

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognise

**Title:** Vanteerian Charm

**Author:** Lady Treason & Tinkering

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter or any affliates, I'm in no way connected to any of them, I do not mean to infringe on any copyrights or titles and I make no money off of this endeavour.

**Warning:** What can I say? It's a Harry Potter/Smallville crossover. There will be Snarry, there will be Clex.

**Summary: **Mostly HP but then a curious bald headed man and a gangly farm boy wandered into their universe…and were followed. So then the megalomaniac father of said bald headed millionaire started getting even GREATER "disillusions" of grandeur… am I giving away the whole plot here? Dude!

A/N: Lovelock8, I never disappoint #winks#. And...only one person stroked poor Ego. #points to little furry beast running around# Another person talked about him but never actually stroked him. Ego says if Tamuril Nenharma returns, they get huggles. But thanks to the other people for reviewing too! Lol.

_**Vanteerian Charm**_

_**By Lady Treason & Tinkering**_

_**Disclaimer: **__All HP characters and places belong to JK Rowling. The Vanteerian Race and stuff belongs solely to me. Ha. _

_**Chapter Four**_

Harry woke the next morning to quietly talking voices and sunlight on his face and smiled slightly stretching, before opening his eyes. He was glad to find he'd been cleaned and dressed in a hospital gown while sleeping. Headmaster Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, the Potions Master, Madam Pomfrey and Lucius Malfoy were huddled a bit away from his bed, whispering urgently. Well, most of them. Snape was lounging against the wall watching them like it was a racquet ball match.

And even though they were whispering he could hear them clear as day.

"…when Potter showed up at the place just after he'd heard the rumours, Diggle was in a state with himself. Especially at how the boy appeared." The Transfiguration professor hissed at the Headmaster. "Are you going to tell us the rest of what happened or not!?"

"I will tell you I don't fully understand what transpired myself but perhaps Harry could shed some light. Poppy could you…?"

"No need to check. I'm awake." Harry said quietly and watched as they all jumped and turned to stare.

"Ah, Harry my boy. You look a lot better today." Headmaster Dumbledore peered over his glasses at Harry. "I was told you looked quite hurt."

"I feel a lot better. It's…so good to not be waking up to another day of…drugs and tests. Or being watched…" Harry shivered helplessly and everyone's heart went out to him while a few fists clenched involuntarily. "I'm just glad to be home and free of those…"

"You're safe now Mr. Potter." Professor McGonagall said gravely. "But could you tell us what happened?"

Harry's lamp-like eyes turned to Dumbledore. "Don't you know? I thought that was why a wizard was among the scientists?"

"It was a guess really. We first suspected something to be wrong when you didn't reply to the notes from your birthday presents but we dismissed that at first. Then when Mr. Malfoy here went to collect you from your family they at first denied you living there then told him you had left. However on…entering the house, he found signs of you and your…forced exit. As you know we have eyes from the Order all about and a few days later some rumours started of some boy that had been found and captured by muggles. He was thought to be magical so it was a jolt to the few of the magical world who had heard. As you were missing we thought…"

"It might be me."

"Yes. So that's why Delagus was there. He kept you there. I'm sorry you had to stay there another day Harry but we thought it better you be there and hidden, also where we could find you…than out lost in the muggle world."

"Perhaps." Harry shut his eyes and took a deep breath. "Is that all you know?"

Albus paused here. "Delagus told me something…" The green eyes flicked open. "Would you like to explain…?"

"I don't know what happened to me. I thought you'd know! That you could help…" Harry's voice was wavering slightly and he swallowed before pleading lowly. "Please Headmaster…if you can…if there's something you know…_fix_ me!"

"Would you two kindly stop telling secrets to each other and perhaps share?" Snape's voice slid smoothly in and Harry turned unblinking eyes on him.

"I'd been feeling sick all day. I don't usually feel sick. Come to think of it I don't think I've ever been sick…anyway, all my presents showed up and I was so dizzy I couldn't…sit to think clearly to reply to the notes. This was about midnight on my birthday. I don't know…maybe half hour hadn't passed yet but I was just going to lie down and…this pain," Harry shut his eyes finally with a cringe. "Such pain. It might…just might have been worse than the Cruciatus. I fell…and my back was bleeding and then it got worse and I passed out." Harry stopped and turned his face away.

"Unless those people scooped you out of your room Potter I'm sure there's more." Harry didn't see him sneer but he heard the grunt as Lucius' elbow connected to a rib.

"I woke up on the street with a few things around me. It seemed Uncle Vernon had kicked me out after kicking me up a bit. Abnormality too much for him I guess. I snuck around Magnolia for a bit. I was trying to make my way to Malfoy Manor…I wasn't thinking clearly I guess in hindsight…I could have gone back in for my broom…I could have used magic…the Knight bus," Harry sighed. "By the time those people found me I'd almost killed myself and it wasn't hard for them to get a hold of me. They told me Uncle Vernon had tipped them off about something 'funny' in his area and that's how they found me. They were studying me for the days I was there and that's about it."

Everyone paused in the quiet to take that in before the Headmaster looked sadly at him. "Harry…"

"I don't want to tell! I don't want to be more of a freak." Harry glared, eyes flashing. "That's what I am isn't it?! I'm a phenomenon." He mocked, clenching his hands into the sheets. "Everything always happens to me and this is pretty much the icing on the cake!"

"Why would muggles be interested in Harry? He's…just another muggle boy!" Lucius paced angrily.

"Maybe Potter is leaving out some major details…" Severus trailed off looking at Harry's hands. Madam Pomfrey gasped seeing blood leaking through the cotton sheets and hurried over. Harry unclenched his fists suddenly and hid his hands under the sheet.

"I'm fine." Harry said petulantly as Poppy came to tug his hands from under the sheet. He finally offered his hands to her carefully, to not hurt her with his sharpened nails.

"Harry please tell us why." Professor Dumbledore asked again tiredly.

"You know. Why do you want me to say it? What is so important about me saying it huh? Do you want to know why the muggles thought me such a prize?!" He turned angry eyes on the others in the room. "The reason why I was in such pain in my bedroom is because wings were popping out of my fucking back! Happy?!"

Poppy's wand poked his hand sharply for the profanity but after that she was about as shocked as everyone else in the room.

"Wings?" Lucius offered first, hesitantly, even as his eyes roamed over Harry's shoulders disbelieving.

"They disappeared yesterday. Luckily, early in the morning just before the scientists brought in some guy who wanted to buy into the 'investment' of me." Harry muttered.

Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall gasped as Dumbledore's blue eyes narrowed. "What?"

"The…doctor, Hamilton, needed monetary backing and he brought some guy to see me. But my wings had already disappeared so don't worry. But they did have some security camera footage…"

"Gone." Snape said shortly. Harry replied with a nod.

"But yeah. Something's still wrong with me. I can see and hear and smell and taste and feel…so much more. It's, I just want to be normal again."

"We have time to explore this and find out what happened to you but do we need to worry about this man on the loose who…"

"Didn't believe the scientist. And I'm sure you made sure something was done to make them forget…" Harry's gaze flicked between Snape and Lucius.

"They are probably converging on the building even as we speak and forgetting about anything to do with you. Entering the grounds will cause that…and anything that was in the building, files, tapes and such…are long burnt."

Harry frowned. "That sounds good then. Can you help me now Professor?"

"I'll try Harry. I'll try. But I suspect…this may have something to do with your Inheritance as you've come of age and may not be anything…removable. You might have to learn to accept it…" He paused Harry's onslaught with a hand. "And because your wings are gone doesn't mean it's over either." He turned to Snape and Madam Pomfrey. "The rest of us can do research but the two of you need to talk to Harry and learn this from him that may identify what's happened to him."

"It would help if I could have something of his abnormality." Snape returned quietly.

"I can hear you."

"I don't care Potter." Severus' dark eyes glared before he looked back to the Headmaster. "I can help when his wings reappear if they do. Until then I too will be doing research."

Dumbledore sighed. "As you wish Severus."

"A couple of clues to help. I am _really_ hurt by artificial light and I'm allergic to salt." Harry snorted wryly and muttered under his breath. "What am I?"

Lucius sat down next to his bed again and held his hand with a small smile while the Headmaster and his Deputy talked. Madam Pomfrey bustled around Harry collecting a few potion vials while Snape leaned casually against a wall and stroked his bottom lip thoughtfully. Harry found he could see and sense this all with his eyes half shut and sighed almost wishing he were back to half blind instead of _this_, whatever he was now.

"Potter, could you turn over and bare your shoulders." Snape came up next to Lucius and asked civilly. Harry looked to Madam Pomfrey who looked to Dumbledore who nodded. Harry then looked to him and turned over with a sigh, letting go of Lucius' hand. Madam Pomfrey pulled the sheet up above his waist to comfort him before untying the string of the gown and spreading it.

"Hmm," Snape hummed before moving away again as Lucius, Minerva and Poppy stared.

"He's got two scars on his shoulder blades Albus." McGonagall said.

"I suppose that's where the wings came out. And where they still are." The Headmaster offered thoughtfully. Madam Pomfrey hesitated for a moment before trying to heal the scars and gasped when they wouldn't heal. "They are magical. That won't help."

She prodded the welted slits lightly. "Do you feel that Mr. Potter?"

"Yes." He muttered muffled into the pillow. "Slightly."

"Well, this at least proves they will be coming back. Whenever they do." The Potions Master said. "From what little Potter offered I think I'll research some magical creatures and see what I can find. If I'm needed I'll be in my dungeons. Albus," Snape nodded slightly and turned and was gone.

Madam Pomfrey sighed. "He's so sharp with you. Doesn't he understand what you're going through?" She fixed up his gown and turned Harry over with a sigh.

"I don't want to be coddled!" Harry swallowed fitfully. "I'd rather that than pity."

"You don't need to fear that." The Headmaster smiled. "I suppose you're hungry now. I guess some hmm, well, salad will do. You never realize how many thing's have salt until you stop and think." Dumbledore pondered. "I'll return later."

"Okay." Harry watched as he and Professor McGonagall left, leaving him with Lucius and Pomfrey.

"I must leave for a bit too. I must talk to Draco. He'll want to see you so he might Floo over. And I will return later too. Take your potions okay?" He tilted his head to the mediwitch and Harry nodded reluctantly as he stood and smiled tiredly. "Eat and relax. You're home. Safe."

For now, Harry thought.

* * *

Something was horribly wrong. He had called the lab in Manchester to get an update on his project and had run into a brick wall. The report of the fire had been on the news update channel and greatly mentioned because of the cover they had going of 'cancer-cure research'. It was like everyone there was…mind-wiped or something! No one knew about 'Harry', not even the group of scientists who had been studying him and Dr. Hamilton himself had talked to him, as if he didn't know him.

He'd thought it a prank call, his enquiry into the 'winged boy', and when he'd asked for Dr. Chang he'd been told she was not on site.

He shuffled his files and copied reports on Harry fuming and wondered if he'd have to get his plane to take him back there. Or at least get into contact with Ms. Chang. Harry could be his next greatest discovery after the other boy, the other boy still being his possible cure to his disease…but Harry could be helpful too. The properties they had found so far on him added to the properties of the other boy in offspring of theirs could keep his research going for _years_, even if the sire and 'mare' were lost.

He found it most annoying that after finding a specimen he could actually work on it disappeared like this…something was definitely being hidden here. This fire could be no coincidence and if those scientists hadn't seemed so genuinely lost he'd have thought they were in on it. His project had been smuggled off by someone and covered by this fire…and somehow they'd made the group working on 'Harry' forget.

If he believed in magic he'd blame it on that but he didn't. Even seeing the security camera of Harry's dash to escape he assumed it was something purely Harry, which offered a new angle. If this phenomenon was _just_ Harry, he had _powers_. Like the other boy did. Different but they could be used just as easily if he could groom the offspring to serve him.

Lionel itched with it. The possibility of all the power he could have in these two specimen alone, much less offspring of both of them ate at him. He was not giving up here. No. He still had not devised a way to get his first specimen under his control but he would. And he would not give up on his second…it was time to hunt down this Harry. Starting with how he'd been found. And for this he need to talk to Ms. Chang.

And while he was fuming silently his son was watching and learning more about his interest in the labs that had burned. He himself would love to see those files his father was guarding so closely and the people he had watching his father were still bringing more information in to him. That reminded him though…he had a plane ride in a few hours to England to see Dr. Hamilton again about his course for the memory restoration treatment…

* * *

Harry nibbled at his lunch of yet another salad restlessly. Even though this one wasn't drugged it still wasn't anything great and he was bored, cooped up. He'd had the potions Madam Pomfrey offered to help him build back body-mass, nutrients and get healthy again but those didn't count as food either. He pondered if Snape could make him some kind of…potion-food hungrily. Then he got some visitors.

"Harry!" Draco hurried to his bedside without making it seem like he hurried and stared down at him.

"Malfoy." Harry drawled with a smile and then laughed as Draco hit him in the arm.

"You're a bastard Potter. Always getting yourself into some sort of scrape…do you like the attention or something! Jeez, father told me you were in the Hospital wing…I assumed you were half dead again. You look okay." Draco's grey eyes looked him over.

"I'm okay."

Lucius came gliding in after Draco and smiled down. "You look better."

"Right. The limp salad has really been perking me up."

"More likely it's Severus' potions." Draco offered cheerfully to get Harry's goat as he sat himself in a chair while his father conjured another. "Anyway, gonna tell me what you did this time?"

Harry looked to Lucius who stared back. "He didn't tell you?" He looked back to Draco.

"Father said you'd probably like to tell me yourself…Harry? Whatever it is…"

Harry sighed and turned his eyes to Lucius. "Can I talk to Draco alone for a bit? Madam Pomfrey's in her office, don't worry about us sneaking out."

"I'm not. You wouldn't be so careless with your life until we know more about…you." Lucius stood. "I have something to check up on myself okay?" He poked at the bowl of salad with a disdainful sneer. "You've got to have some better food." He kissed Harry's forehead lightly and left.

"Well?" Draco pressed leaning forward in his chair. "What's so secret?"

Harry spent the next hour talking quietly to Draco, telling him basically everything that had happened to him in much greater detail than he had to the adults. When he got to telling him how it felt to be poked and prodded every day Harry had to pause to reign in anger and calm Draco's own fury, visible in his steel coloured eyes.

"If we ever got a wand on this Dr. Hamilton…" Draco started hissing, by now perched on his bed.

"He doesn't remember Draco. And I like it being a memory. It's all over…it's just…what he did to me, felt like being…raped," Harry whispered. "I didn't want…I tried to get him to _stop_…" He shook his head forcefully. "When I'm not this…thing, anymore I will be able to control my own body again."

Draco took his hand and held it tightly. He'd hate to have to remind his brother that what had happened might be permanent.

"Could you get your dad back in here? I have some more to tell him…I probably should have added this to their research last night…""

Draco nodded and got up, going to fetch Lucius and hurried back to find Harry choking down some potions with a twisted face and poking at another salad.

"I never want to see lettuce again." Harry deadpanned as he chewed a leaf listlessly. Draco returned to his side with a laugh and quipped helpfully.

"Salt and pepper to taste perhaps?"

"Don't joke like that!" Harry smacked him lightly just as Lucius came in and caught them laughing happily together.

"Did you need me?"

Harry sobered slightly as Draco took the chair next to his bed once more. "Yes. I wanted to add some stuff to…help the professors work out what I am. Besides the salt and light thing…I grow claws when I'm agitated or angry, you saw. Umm, you probably also figured out on your own from last night about my enhanced senses." He nodded at Lucius' own nod. "Umm, I think that's…oh! One more thing I remembered…" Harry bit his lip.

"What?" Lucius asked, coming to stand next to Draco. "Harry?"

"I might be a Dark creature of some sort." Harry whispered. "I can control…the shadows. They helped me while I was hiding out on Magnolia…which also reminds me…I lost your cloak." He turned sorrowfully to Draco.

"That's alright. We can get you another." He smiled shakily.

Lucius paused, thinking before venturing out an idea. "When you say you controlled the shadows do you mean…they have a form and you can command them…?"

Harry shook his head. "Nooo, more like my magic…I dunno, can twist the dark."

Lucius smiled suddenly. "Then you're not a Dark creature. It sounds like you have a bit of Shadow magic though. It probably manifested because you were in need. This is a great help…we don't need to look through all those Dark tomes now…"

"Glad to help…" Harry sighed tiredly. "I think I need a nap though…do you mind?"

"Not at all." Draco hopped up too.

"Sleep well brother." Harry flushed as he kissed his forehead. "Don't go all shy on me."

"Git." Harry scowled, still red. "Get out." Draco laughed.

"I talked to an old friend of the family's too, to get you something I thought would help greatly but it turns out both Dumbledore and I had the same idea so…expect something besides salad tomorrow." Lucius smiled. "Draco and I are going to head back to my chambers. And then I have to get this information to Severus."

"The sooner the better." Harry wriggled down into the bed and curled on a side to watched them go. "Thank you Lucius."

"You're welcome. Harry."

* * *

A/N: Ne, this is also going to be my last update for a bit on this story. I'm not used to writing large chapters and this story is actually my biggest yet excluding Days Like These which I wrote totally on my own and you saw how long THAT took me. Therefore in order for my writing to get at least four chapters ahead of my posting I will probaby have a few months break on this before I start posting again. However, this is not a cue for you to lose interest or stop reviewing. #wags finger# And I will not stop writing this either so don't worry about it being abandoned.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note**: You lucky, lucky people you.

You are the lucky few that are NOT getting a note to tell you this story is ending! Hooray!

For some reason my stubborn mind is insisting it can finishing this given time and furthermore – with my time off (coming soon in May, check my profile people!) and improved skills after having had writing help on LJ – you will benefit from a better reading experience.

That being said, don't look for updates next week. LOL, sorry folks but though my free time is coming up, it isn't here yet. I can say for Vanteerian Charm that it will be a long, hard road to re-writing the 9000 words lost to that issue I told you guys about where I lost my files – I remember the plot though so fear not. It's just the time to write it all back… As for Rejected Runespoor I had promised an overhaul and it will come. Having re-read I know it is NECESSARY and it will be done before I can think to continue writing. As for Just What I've Never Wanted, it was almost complete before I lost my files and this one hurts the most… I had the most beautiful scenes ready for the near-end… I have to muster up the motivation to work myself back there again. I will though, that's a promise.

So these three stories – though it will not be immediate – will be continued. Hang in there people,

Love Tinks


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